


let the awful song be heard

by camdotcom



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst I guess, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Minor Injuries, Theres a dragon, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 12:07:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21494026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camdotcom/pseuds/camdotcom
Summary: baz wakes up in a dark place, just him and simon. he’s pretty badly injured and there’s some sort of creature wreaking havoc on watford. idiots in love doing idiotic things.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 5
Kudos: 85





	let the awful song be heard

**Author's Note:**

> unedited because again, i am a savage

**BAZ**

Everything is black. I can hear Simon shushing me, but it's muffled. I can't open my eyes. It's so cold. His hands are grasping mine tightly, like it's all he's got left of me. I can feel his fingers shakily on my wrist, taking my pulse.

Finally I can open my eyes. I think I'm thawing out. Simon's there, messy and so, so bright. He's a beacon of light.

He's sitting with his back to the wall on my right, right by my feet. I'm laying down on something cold. It's so cold.

He's still got my hand in his. I squeeze it, and his head whips around lightning fast. His eyes widen, and it breaks some part of me. He scrambles up to my side. I think he wants to kiss me, but I don't think I can. My breathing is weak and shallow and I think he can tell.

"Baz," he says quietly, and I think he's crying. "I didn't know if you would wake up. My spells weren't working anymore."

"Where are we?" I ask, my voice unbelievably gravelly. My throat is so dry. I cough, and incapacitating pain races through my chest and abdomen. I try not to grimace, but Simon sees. He's definitely crying. "What's going on?"

"I-I don't really know," he says. "Something attacked. I don't really—no one—it came out of nowhere. Some sort of dragon, I think. You tried to fight it back, but it was sucking up all the magic. I could barely even summon my sword."

His sword is lying discarded about a meter away. The blade is dirty, covered in some sort of grime and blood. I try not to think about it being Simon's blood. Or mine.

"Where are we?" I repeat, but my voice is failing and I'm not sure he hears me. I try to look around but a different pain shoots through my neck and right shoulder. Something is _definitely_ broken.

The ceiling is and walls are dark. Everything is dark. There's absolutely no lighting. I'm amazed I can see anything at all. Panic rises in me.

"The Catacombs," he says, but his voice is still shaky. He lays his hand gently on my chest so it doesn't hurt, and it doesn't, but his hand is shaking too. "I couldn't think of anywhere else to go. Watford doesn't exactly have dragon-proof rooms."

I almost laugh, but I stop myself and smile instead. I don't want to think about how it'd feel to laugh with a cracked—likely broken—rib or two. Out of nowhere, the ground shakes above us.

It all rushes back to me suddenly. We had been walking from Mummer's house down to the pitch, and Simon's hand had fit nicely into mine. I remember the smell of smoke, and the way I'd looked at Simon to see if it was coming from him. But he'd only looked as confused as everyone else. I remember the creature landing—it _did_ look quite like a dragon—and shaking the ground. It roared deafeningly, and teachers were already spilling out onto the grounds to throw their magic its way. Simon had said something to me, but I couldn't hear it over the commotion. I'd squeezed his hand and run off on my own.

In hindsight, it was stupid. But I needed to do _something_, even if that meant getting nearly killed, apparently. I'd rushed towards the creature and thrown a few of my own spells at it before it had whipped around, its impossibly large tail slamming into me and tossing me half a dozen meters back into the tree line, where I promptly hit a tree and gotten knocked out.

The way Simon is looking at me now makes me think that he's thinking about all of that too. Just that instead of running heroically into the line of fire and getting wrecked, he ran heroically into the line of fire to rescue me and find a safe place for us.

"Did no one else find their way here?" I ask, and he shakes his head. He looks so nervous. I can't tell if it's about me or everyone else. "Are you okay?"

"Physically, yeah." He runs a hand over his arm. "Nothing hit me. You, however, are not okay."

"We need to go. We have to find the nurse."

"You can hardly move, Baz."

"I'll be fine," I say, and I'm lying. I put my hands on the ground beside me and use all of my strength to push myself into a sitting position. It's agony. My vision goes black at the edges as I sit myself up, so I close my eyes and focus on anything but the pain. Simon's hand grabs onto my arm and tugs me upright.

"We're not going anywhere." He places a hand in my chest, and he can probably feel my erratic heartbeat from there. It's beating impossibly fast and hard in my ears.

"Simon," I say, and my breathing calms. My heartbeat steadies. Whether it's his magic or just _him_, something about him is bringing me back to normal.

He leans in, and we're kissing, and it's nothing we haven't done before but it feels like magic. I can taste his magic on my tongue, smokey and familiar. It feels like that first day after the dragon, when it was just us on my bed under the stars.

I'll never get tired of it. Of _him_. He's the sun, and I'm a vampire. We're cursed, I think. The real life Romeo and Juliet. Does that make me Juliet?

_I love you_. He does that thing with his chin that he does, and I let him. I can feel myself melting under his touch. He's sitting more upright than I am, and I crane my neck to meet his lips.

_I love you_. My side is aching, but Simon's warmth is grounding. Everyone may be a mess, but I know that I'm here with him. He's here with me. Just us.

_I love you_. I've never said it before. I'm a coward, I know. I've thought it a million times, but I've always chickened our before I said it. Sometimes I think that one day he'll realize that he's not actually gay or bi or whatever and he doesn't actually like me. I worry he'll leave. I can't tell him that I love him because I'll just scare him off.

But I might not ever leave Watford again, depending how it's going with the dragon. Or whatever it is. It's now or never.

"Simon," I say, pulling away just enough that our foreheads are still touching. Forehead touching is extremely underrated. "Simon."

"Yes?" He asks, an underlying teasing tone in his voice. His lips turn up at a corner. This is it.

"I love you."

Everything stops for a second, and my pulse is thumping solidly in my ears again. His eyes meet mine, that clear blue. I can't tell if he's going to move away or not. I want to kiss him and forget it ever happened. I wish I'd just shut up.

"I love you, too."

My heart implodes. I didn't know it was possible to love someone this much. He leans forward again, kissing me. I let him. I'll always let him. I love him.

The ground shakes above us again. Dirt falls on and around us. Simon looks around, anxious.

"Maybe underground wasn't the best idea," he admits. He loops his arm under mine, helping me up. He does that thing again, using his magic as a painkiller. At least, that's what I think is what's happening. Whatever it is, it's working. The agonizing pain from before is barely a pinch as Simon stands me up.

My bum leg doesn't help us leave quickly. The ground is shaking more frequently, and some rubble is falling now. Bloody Numpties. My leg still isn't right, even after quite a long time.

"We need to hurry," Simon urges, and I try not to sneer.

"I'm trying," I quip back, "but I'm quite injured. If my damned leg wasn't enough, I've got new wounds!"

I hope I don't sound as ungrateful as I think I do. I don't want to imagine the look on Simon's face—

"That's just the pain talking." He's right, of course. It's irritating. "How's the spell working?"

"It's alright," I admit, and we're moving faster up the stairs than I'd expected. Still slow, but it could be worse. A rat scurries by. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not leaving me to die?" I look over at him, but he's focused on the path before us. I forget that he doesn't know this place like the back of his hand like I do. "For essentially nursing me back to health?"

"I wouldn't exactly call this health."

I shrug as best I can. "I've been worse."

He smiles just the slightest bit, but there's anxiety in the way his brows pull together. I want to tell him that I'm okay, that I'll be okay. But I don't know if that's true. I can't have the last thing I say to him be a lie.

The ground shudders again. We take the final step onto the ground floor, and then out into the courtyard without a second glance around. I can see Mummers House in the distance, and the pitch even further away, but the creature has moved. It's behind the White Chapel, near the cloisters.

"Fucking hell," I hear Simon mutter, and I almost laugh. "Damn thing's moved all across the grounds."

Simon readjusts me on his shoulder and we start off towards one of the buildings. The monster stomps, shaking me to me core.

Then Simon stops abruptly and lets me slip out of his arms. I fall against the side of the White Chapel, the old concrete warm against my skin in the sunlight. I take desperate hold of his hand as he tries to turn away.

**Simon**

I have to let him go if we're going to live through this. I have to let him go.

He's yelling at me to stay, but I'm tugging my hand away. I can feel all my magic there in my fingertips where he's touching. It's pooling where our skin meets. Maybe my spells are working after all.

I pull my hand free.

**BAZ**

"What are you doing?" I cry out, and I can tell he hears me even through the commotion. "You're going to get yourself killed!"

"I've got this!" He says back, and his hand slips out of mine. The warm healing feeling stays for only a second after his hand leaves me grasp, and I'm first hit by a sharp pain in my side. I try to hold back a wince, but the stabbing feeling keeps coming. I'm practically writhing on my side.

My vision is half gone, but I look up and can see Simon. He's walking—no, running—into the fight. Another blast of pain, and my vision is completely black. I close my eyes tightly. I can hear Simon yelling, and I pray to every god I know.

My terrible, terrible boyfriend. I just told him I loved him. He just told me he loved me back. I don't know what I'll do. I don't know what there _is_ to do. The only person I've ever loved that much was my mother, and everyone knows how well that went. If he gets hurt, or worse...

Everything is black.

**SIMON**

We kill the monster. I'm not sure what it is—or was—but Headmistress Bunce seems to be searching for any clues about its species. She thinks she'll have to contact the Coven. I really hope she doesn't have to. They're not exactly fond of me.

Headmistress Bunce is blabbering on about one thing or another when I remember.

"Baz," I say, and it's practically a whisper. There are two dozen students and teachers strewn about the grounds. Thankfully, they've all been alive. So far. Halfway through the Headmistress's lecture, I take off running in the other direction. _Baz_.

I round the corner, and my heart beats out of my chest. He's not where I left him. I look around, and he's halfway across the damned clearing, standing uncertainly on his feet. He's practically waving in the wind.

The good weather is starting to turn. A chilly wind whips be me as I start running in Baz's direction. He's clutching his side and grimacing like he's trying not to. Fucking idiot. He must have thrown a few spells in all the commotion, but they've drained everything out of him. It's a miracle he's conscious.

I reach him, and my first instinct is to wrap my arms around him. But I stop short, and he seems to notice. He tucks his wand into the waistband of his trousers, then throws his arm around my shoulders. He pulls me tight.

"I thought you were dead," he whispers, and he's so close that I can hear the pain in his voice. I know he's only hiding his face so I won't have to see the pain there, too.

"I'm not," I say. There's so much more I want to say but I haven't got a damn clue on how to tell him. Instead I lay my hands lightly around his torso and let my magic seep in. Thank magic, he relaxes into my touch. I kiss his cheek. "I'm alive. I'm here."

**BAZ**

It's nearly two weeks until I can walk up the stairs to our room without having to stop halfway to catch my breath. Even with the healing spells, I have to walk up with Simon every time so he can work his magic—literally. He's just about the only thing that stops the pain.Bunce tries, but her magic is so pungent it stings.

Simon doesn't have to walk me up now, but he does. Something about his magic numbs the pain. We even went to the Headmistress about it, but she claimed she had no idea what it was all about. I'd like to believe her, but she's the mother of Penelope Bunce, and that girl had to get her scheming skills from somewhere.

We stop at our door, and I open it. Simon left the window open, but it's letting in a nice warm breeze. I can't really complain.

I sit on my bed. He sits on his. I'm not sure I even want to kiss him. I think I'm okay just looking at him—the way the sun hits his golden hair, his golden skin, his freckled cheeks. I could look at him all day. I could just hold his hand—just be five feet away, just a bedroom apart, just an impulsive thought away—all day and I think I'd be fine. So long as he's there. I survived seven years of it, I can survive another twenty minutes.

But he smiles, his cheeks going a little pink, and I absolutely know I won't make it twenty minutes. He's looking me right in the eyes and I'm so in love with this bastard. He stands up and walks the two meters between our beds, eyeing the spot beside me. I let him sit. Of course I let him sit.

"Baz," he says, and he touches his hand to my shoulder. His fingers curve around to my back, and something stirs in my stomach.

"Yes?" I raise an eyebrow, and I wonder if he knows that I'd give him all I have. All I'll ever have. It's all his. All he has to do is ask. He'll never ask, but it's his.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks. I laugh once, barely an exhale. I smile, and it spreads stupidly across my face. He's smiling, but it's nervous. I shouldn't have laughed.

"Of course."

He breaks into an equally stupid grin and leans forward. I snake my arm around his waist, pulling him in. His lips meet mine softly, and I feel almost giddy. There's something about the way he's so gentle with me, like he think I'll break.

I kiss him back, harder. He doesn't have to be afraid. I won't break. If anything, I'm stronger for this. I'm stronger because of him. I remember the first time we kissed. _He_ kissed _me_, and I think it nearly killed me. It might have. This is just a dream. This isn't real, it can't be. It's too good to be true.

Simon puts his other hand on my cheek, fingers just barely brushing against the skin. He's hardly touching me, but my skin crackles underneath his touch. He does that damn thing with his chin, and I'm putty in his hands. He's so warm. He loves me too.

Not a dream. Not even I could dream this up.

**Author's Note:**

> this is almost 3k words to make up for the like 700 words last time. it started with about half a dozen hurt/comfort prompts like ‘waking up not knowing where they are’ and ‘no painkillers available’ and honestly ran away from me idk what this even says anymore


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